


and all i do is sit and think about you

by magnetichearts



Category: Never Have I Ever (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst, Bickering, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Love Confessions, Old Married Couple, Teasing, also known as my favorite trope, and they deserve absolutely everything, anyways hope y'all enjoy legit broke my back to write it but no matter, featuring lots of, idk you guys i just love them so much, k soooooo, oh right and can't forget my brand tag, this is a lot of 'everyone else sees it but they don't', yeah so, zero word count control™️
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:06:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24012556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magnetichearts/pseuds/magnetichearts
Summary: Devi’s getting really tired of people mentioning it. Sure, the first few times it had happened, she had brushed it off. It was a weird comment, but nonetheless, not something she needed to waste her time on.But now, it’s getting annoying. Because no matter what people say, her and Ben Gross do not act like an old married couple.They just don’t.or; 5 times people said devi and ben bickered like an old married couple, and the one time they didn't mind(title from "it's not living if (it's not with you)" by the 1975)
Relationships: Ben Gross/Devi Vishwakumar
Comments: 24
Kudos: 518





	and all i do is sit and think about you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flashlightinacave](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flashlightinacave/gifts).



> hey y'all, wrote this in legitimately five hours, but edited a bunch, i really love ben and devi so much, i'm completely obsessed. we all know a good academic rivals to friends to lovers ship is one of the greatest tropes out there (anne and gilbert, i'm looking at you) and so, i just had to write something for them, despite the fact that i have exams creeping up on me, and plenty of other fics that _need_ to get done. 
> 
> anyways also i'm brown, and south indian, so all of the food mentioned in this fic is stuff i eat at home, so don't come at me for accuracy. i also made paxton rebecca and devi bros in this because i can. fuck everything else. 
> 
> **also, happy surprise, leila!!** you encouraged me so much during this fic i decided to unveil it as a little surprise for you and a token of my appreciation. everyone, go follow leila on tumblr @montygreen and read her ben/devi fic! it's absolutely fantastic!!!

Devi’s getting really tired of people mentioning it. Sure, the first few times it had happened, she had brushed it off. It was a weird comment, but nonetheless, not something she needed to waste her time on. 

But now, it’s getting annoying. Because no matter _what_ people say, her and Ben Gross do _not_ act like an old married couple. 

They just don’t. 

* * *

Devi Vishwakumar is certain of exactly three things. 

  1. Her father ~~is~~ was the best man she’s ever met
  2. Paxton Hall-Yoshida is _the_ hottest guy on the planet (barring Nick Jonas, but he was already married—to an Indian woman that _wasn’t_ her, but that’s besides the point)
  3. Ben Gross will one day bow down to her superiority, because of course she’s the better one of the two of them—and everyone else knows it



Of course, he doesn’t quite know that yet, which annoys her to no end, she still doesn’t get how he doesn’t understand, but no matter. She’ll just have to keep proving him wrong until he takes his rightful place—second place, with her in first. 

It’s like, a rule or something. Entropy is always increasing, energy cannot be created or destroyed, and Devi Vishwakumar is better than Ben Gross.  
  
(she knows that’s not an actual rule, by the way. she aced her physics exam)

This fact does not comfort her any less when Mr. Shapiro calls her and Ben into his room after history. Ok, so today might have been a more volatile day than most, with her and Ben hurling snipes at one another throughout all of class, but she honestly can’t help it! It’s not her fault he has a face made for hurling insults at.

(there is a part of her brain that _unhelpfully_ supplies the fact that ben’s face is _not_ the worst thing in the world to look at, and she struggles to shut that down)

“Ben, Devi,” Mr. Shapiro says, rubbing his head. “I thought we had an agreement. No more arguing in class.” 

“It’s not my fault,” Devi instantly protests. “He was the one who started it!” 

“Not true,” Ben fires back. “Which one of us said that I deserved to be hung in medieval stocks?” 

“Which one of us said they were glad for the British invasion of India!” she snaps back. 

“Well, I wasn’t the one who said that Gandhi was a piece of shit!” 

“That’s because he _was!_ Oh my god, and you call yourself a student of history. How can you not know that?” 

“Well, at least I wasn’t the one who called Edgar Allan Poe a pedo!” 

“What else do you want to call someone who married their thirteen year old cousin!” 

“Guys!” Mr. Shapiro barks. Devi falls silent instantly. She can’t afford to fuck everything up with her mom, after the screaming match they had last month, and after they just patched up their relationship by spreading her father’s ashes on his birthday. 

(not to mention, she’s made exactly zero progress on the paxton front, after chickening out to meet him at the swimming pool. honestly, besides her mom, her life feels kind of stagnant) 

“Guys,” he repeats, softer. He looks exhausted, rubbing at the circles underneath his guys, and Devi would feel guilty, really, she would, but it’s all Ben’s fault, so why should she? 

“You guys can’t keep doing this in class. I’m pretty sure your classmates are tired of hearing you volley insults at one another for the whole period. Lord knows I am.” 

Ben crosses his arms, while Devi places her hands on her hips. “I’m sorry, Mr. Shapiro,” he says, and Devi tries to restrain herself from rolling her eyes in disgust. _Ugh._ Suck up. _“I’ll_ try not to start any more fights,” he adds, glancing over at her. 

Devi feels her patented temper rising up once more. “Oh, and what does that mean?” 

“Pretty sure exactly what I wanted it to mean, _David,”_ Ben spits. “I can’t believe you keep dragging us into this situation!” 

_“Me?”_ Devi wants to strangle his stupid neck. Pretty sure she could, with her bare hands. He’s a weakling. “I’m the one who keeps getting us tossed in the principal’s office?” 

“Well, it’s not like _I_ smashed the beaker.” 

“Not again, guys,” Shapiro begs. “Please, can you just listen to me for two minutes?” 

The both of them fall quiet. As much as Devi and Ben might despise each other, they both want to get the best grades possible, and they care more about school than they do about beating each other. 

(not much more. like, fractionally small. but still more)

Plus, Shapiro would be a great resource for college recommendation letters, if she could show growth by ignoring Ben and his radiating stupidity for the rest of the year. 

Shapiro links his hands together. “I thought moving into my own place and out of my parents was _supposed_ to stop me from hearing people bicker like an old married couple in front of me,” he mutters, but not so quiet that Devi and Ben miss it. 

“We do not bicker like that,” she insists immediately. The very thought is preposterous. Her and Ben? With romance in the same sentence? Like an old _married_ couple? No, the very thought is absolutely ridiculous. 

“For once, I agree, David,” Ben says, shooting her a nasty look. She retaliates by sticking her tongue out at him. “Like, old hated enemies, maybe.” 

“Yeah, that sounds about right.” 

“Did you just agree with me?” Ben gasps. 

Devi actually _does_ roll her eyes this time. “Don’t get used to it, Gross.” 

“Did you guys ever think that maybe you’d be better working together than apart?” Shapiro interjects, clearly tired of losing a handle on the conversation for the _third_ time. “You’re easily my two best students, and instead of working together on all the class projects and leaving everyone in the dust, you’re always fighting.” 

Devi scoffs at the very idea of her and Ben working together. When hell freezes over, maybe. “I don’t think that would work the way you would want it to, Mr. Shapiro. Ben would get so intimidated by my brilliance he’d just start crying. _Again.”_

“Please. As if you have enough brilliance for me to think that.”

“That’s it,” Shapiro says, clapping his hands together. “I’m going to make sure that you two get over this stupid petty rivalry, once and for all. I’m assigning the class to work on a project tomorrow in pairs. You two will work together to create a Facebook page for a significant historical figure. There’ll be a list to pick from, but _no,”_ he adds, seeing horror flit over both of their faces, “I will not be changing my decision. You two are going to learn to work together if it kills you. And even then, maybe we’ll all get a little peace and quiet from your bickering.” 

Fuck. Looks like hell just froze over. 

* * *

“Hey, David,” she hears, and it takes everything in her not to turn around. She’s not going to respond to Ben, she’s not. Not until he learns to at least address her by her actual name. 

But then he’s leaning against her locker, and she’s forced to turn her head to look at him. “What, Gross,” she spits. 

It’s been only a week since Shapiro assigned the project, and they have until the end of next week, but it’s stressing Devi out. She’s never been this behind on a project, ever. She’s usually very on top of her schoolwork, great at getting things done, but this, this is insane. They have a week to make a Facebook page for Winston Churchill. Sure, logically, she knows she and Ben scored the jackpot, Churchill is so easy, but _still._

“I thought we agreed we’d both do our half of the project and just not speak to each other,” she says, closing her locker door. 

Ben rolls his eyes, and fucking hell, screw her, but she can’t but notice how pretty they are. He really does have beautiful eyes. 

(wait, fuck no. he’s ben gross. he sucks. he doesn’t have pretty eyes)

“I know that, but apparently Shapiro overheard us talking about that and said that if we try that, he’ll fail us.” 

“How in the shit is he supposed to know?” 

He shrugs. “I have no clue, but I’m not going to risk it. So, you’re coming over to my place, and we’re going to get this project done.” 

Devi tries not to stick her tongue out at him. “Oh, so you’re just going to make all the decisions for me now, is that it?” 

A flicker of hurt passes over Ben’s face, so quickly she wonders if she dreamt it, before he smirks at her. “No. Just wondering if you were the one who had the special poster board that Shapiro gave us.” He pretends to tap his chin in thought. “Oh wait, no, I was the one who got that.” 

Devi swears. He’s right, and she hates it when Ben Gross is right. Makes her feel icky. “Fine,” she bites out. “Meet you in the lobby at 3:15?” 

“Sounds like a plan.” Devi watches him walk off, and try as she might, she can’t help the pit that forms in her stomach as he leaves. 

She’s standing in the lobby at exactly fourteen minutes past three, her thumbs hooked around the straps of her backpacks, rolling up onto her toes and back down. 

Why the fuck is she so nervous? She’s just going to Ben Gross’s place. 

(perhaps that’s _why_ she’s so nervous, her brain helpfully supplies. because it’s not just ben, because it _is_ ben) 

She slams the brakes on that train of thought when she sees Ben approach her. “You ready to do this, David?” he asks. 

She bites her tongue to keep from spewing a string of curses at him and simply nods. “The sooner we get started, the quicker it’s over.” 

“True,” he agrees. They exit Sherman Oaks and take a right, and Ben stuffs his hands in his pockets. 

They walk for about five minutes in silence, but Devi’s not a quiet kid, not by nature, and so this is suffocating her, overwhelming her. Eventually, she can’t take it anymore, and she has to break it. “Did you see Lilly Hawkins the other day?” 

Ben scrunches his eyebrows. “I know! I don’t get girls who think getting a fake tan to the point they look orange is attractive.” 

“Maybe they want to look more like our president,” she quips. 

“Can’t imagine who would.” 

“You know that’s right,” she says. “And I don’t get the people who have enough time to put on a full face of makeup before they go to school. I can barely brush my hair.” 

“Who can tell the difference?” Ben says, but she can tell he’s joking. She shoves him lightly, but he smirks and continues. “I need to set three alarms because all of mine go to snooze.” 

“Why does high school start so early? It’s proven that brain function increases drastically after 10 am.” 

“Personally, I think it’s all a set up by the College Board to enslave us even further.” 

They continue to chat amicably until they reach Ben’s house, which, to Devi’s surprise, is literally fucking _huge._ Like, she knew he was rich, but this is _rich._ “Holy shit, Gross,” she says, stepping into the foyer. “This is like, insane.” 

“I know,” he says, closing the door behind him. “I thought about having a party for my birthday, but I decided against it. Didn’t want to have to clean up after hundreds of drunk teenagers.”

“Oh, I can feel that. They never show that part in movies, do they?” 

“Yeah, must be too unglamorous for everyone on _Riverdale_ to actually do something besides hooking up and magically getting into Ivy League schools despite never doing homework.” 

“That’s bothered me too!” Devi agrees. “Like, I want Princeton, not Yale, but that’s still ridiculous.” 

“Yeah well, I highly doubt that TV cares much about being realistic.” 

“True, that show is just ridiculous now.” 

“Agreed. I like to put in on while doing homework just to laugh at it,” he laughs. “Like any time Cheryl speaks.” 

“Oh my god, she’s ridiculous,” Devi laughs. 

“What do you think is her cringiest line?” 

“In all honesty, there’s too many to pick from. Besides, I think Jughead is way cringier than her.”

“No way!” Ben argues. “It’s got to be Cheryl. She’s the one who literally gets dressed up ridiculously for _high school.”_

“So we’re just going to forget about Jughead’s stupid ‘I’m a weirdo’ speech?” Devi asks. “That line is too iconic.” 

“Ok, but all I’m saying is that Cheryl has way _more_ cringier lines, ok? Jughead might have some stupid lines, but Cheryl has a cringey line in _every single episode.”_

“No, it’s Jughead!” Devi stomps her foot like a little kid, but she can’t help but laugh. 

She hears Ben laughing with her, and suddenly, he’s smiling at her, and wait—what the fuck? Cause Ben Gross does _not_ have a nice smile, and his laugh does _not_ make her stomach feel warm. 

(it actuality, it really does, and devi’s feeling things she’s never felt before, things that she thought she’d only feel with paxton, not with ben, but she can’t help it; he really _does_ have a nice laugh, and god, a beautiful smile) 

“Ben!” A voice calls out, and Devi turns to see a short, stout woman walking towards them. “My boy!” she says, smiling at Ben. “Glad to see you are back. Who is this?” she asks, with a thick accent, turning her eyes on Devi. 

“This is Devi,” Ben says. She smiles and holds out her hand. “Devi, this is Patty, our housekeeper, and the best person ever.” 

“Nice to meet you,” Devi says. She’ll never tell Ben this, but she respects him a hell of a lot more for how he clearly cares about his housekeeper. She can’t imagine many other rich boys feel the same way. 

“Oh!” Patty says, smiling at her in that comforting way Devi had imagined grandmothers smiled at you. “You are this boy’s girlfriend?” she asks, casting her eyes over to Ben.

“N—no!” Devi splutters, her face turning hot. She feels her stomach erupt with flutters. “No, Ben has a _different_ girlfriend. We’re just working on a project for school together.” 

“Yeah, Shira,” Ben says, his face as red as hers felt. “You’ve met her before, Patty.” 

Patty frowns. “You are still with her? I’m sorry, my boy. I just thought—with the bickering, I have not heard two people bicker so much like my parents for years. I thought, sweet girl for sweet boy, that is it.” She smiles at Ben. “Very well. You would like snacks?” she asks. 

Ben glances at Devi, who shrugs. “I could always eat,” she says. 

“Ok, yeah, thanks, Patty,” he says. He jerks his thumb towards the stairs. “We’re just, gonna get started on the project now.” 

“Say no more,” Patty says. “I will leave you two to work.” She shoos them away with her hands, and Devi scratches her arm absently as she and Ben make his way into her room. 

“Sorry about Patty,” Ben says, setting his stuff down on his bed while Devi sits in his deck chair. “She’s never liked Shira.” 

Devi shoots him what she hopes is a reassuring smile, but she can’t ignore the butterflies that had materialized in her stomach at the thought of being Ben’s _girlfriend._ Ok, but she doesn’t want to focus on that right now. 

“That makes two of us,” she says lightly. “So,” she says, turning her attention back to the project, “are we gonna rip Churchill apart or make him seem nice?” 

“Is that even a question? Rip him apart, of course.” 

“I knew you were good for something, Gross.”

* * *

“I _told_ you, we have to outline everything with the thin-tipped Sharpie! That’s the only way it’ll look nice!” 

“But what if we do that and suddenly we discover that we’ve written something wrong! Then we can’t fix it!”

“Ben, how many times do I have to say it? I’ve checked three times, you’ve checked it five, I’m sure we’ve gotten everything right.” 

“But what if?” 

“Then we just use white-out!” 

“Come on, Devi. You know white-out sucks! And then it’ll look weird!” 

“Ben, we can’t leave it in pencil. Then no one will be able to see it!” 

Ben groans, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “I get your point, but what if something is still wrong?” 

A knock on the door stops what Devi's about to say next, and Kamala pokes her head in. “Devi, your mom says dinner’s ready. Are you ready?” 

“Wait one second, Kamala,” Devi says. She turns to Ben. “Look, I get you’re worried, but how about this. You bring it home and go over it one more time, and then use the thin-tipped Sharpie, ok?” 

Ben sighs, stuffing his notebook into his backpack. “Sounds like a good deal. But all of mine are dry and I haven’t had any time to run to the store and get a new pack. Can I borrow one of yours?” 

Devi nods. “Sure. Pencil case, second—” 

“Flap on the right, I know.” 

“And make sure—”

“To cap them as soon as I’m done and give them back to you tomorrow.” 

“Oh and—” 

“If anything happens to them, you’ll gut me. I _know,_ Devi,” Ben says, fond exasperation on his face. Devi tries not to think about what that means. He drops her Sharpies into his pencil case and places it in his backpack, swinging it over his shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Devi. I can let myself out.” 

Devi watches him wave goodbye to Kamala and hears his footsteps as he descends the stairs, and when she turns back to her cousin after tucking everything away, she finds Kamala smirking at her. “What?” Devi says, crossing her arms. 

She actually likes Kamala now, after she had caught her and her (now ex) boyfriend sneaking around the house. But she does not like the look on her cousin’s face. Knowing, and mischievous. In fact, it looks a lot like the look Devi thinks had been on _her_ face when she caught Kamala and Steve. 

“You two are so cute,” she says.

Devi rolls her eyes. “Me and Ben? Not in a million years.” 

Kamala hums, clearly unconvinced. “Well, from where I’m standing you two just did that really cute mind-reading thing that only couples who’ve known each other forever can do, and plus, you were bickering like an old married couple when I came up the steps. I could hear you through the door,” she finished. 

Ok, Devi’s getting really tired of people mentioning that her and Ben act like an old married couple. Kamala was what, the third person? Seriously. Didn’t these people know she already had someone she was destined to be with? 

“I already like someone,” Devi says. “Paxton Hall-Yoshida,” she sighs. “He’s so hot.” 

Kamala raises an eyebrow. “Devi, is that all you have to say about this boy?” 

Devi shrugs. “What else is there to say? He’s the hottest kid in SoCal. No, the hottest kid _ever.”_

“Devi, I’ve seen my fair share of Bollywood movies, and you know what’s always the same thing about them? The girl always falls for the guy who _knows_ her. How much does this Paxton know about you? Does he even know your name?” 

Devi waves off her cousin’s concerns. “What does that matter? He’ll know my name soon. And then he’ll fall for me, and we’ll be together. Or, at the very least, make out with me.” 

Kamala sighs, sitting on Devi’s bed. “Devi, I know right now, you want someone who’s hot and cute and gorgeous. I did, when I was your age. I thought I was going to get married to Hrithik Roshan.” 

“Ok, but who _doesn’t_ still want to marry Hrithik Roshan?” Devi points out.

Kamala concedes the point with a nod of her head. “Fair enough. But still, Devi. Consider something. You have known Ben since the both of you were little, haven’t you? And there’s been _nothing_ in that whole time? No thoughts?” 

Devi opens her mouth to protest, but the words fail her. Because the truth is, yeah, there have been thoughts, but not until now, not until literally _this fucking week._

(because here was the truth: ben gross was growing on her, like a fucking weed, cause he was funny and he made her laugh, and he was surprisingly kind to his housemaid, and because despite being so alone and vulnerable (she hadn’t seen his parents once in the week she was over at his house) he was still a good opponent, because he deserved a lot more than what he got; absentee parents and a shallow girlfriend, and lately devi had been the one who wanted to give everything to him) 

She snaps back to reality when she realizes it’s been like thirty seconds and she still hasn’t said anything, but Kamala is smiling at her sympathetically. “Look, Devi. I’m not going to tell you what to do. But I think you need to start listening to what your heart _actually_ wants instead of _telling_ it what it wants. It’ll do you a lot of good.” 

“But I don’t like him!” Devi insists, throwing her hands up in the air. “I don’t! We’ve been rivals for like, _ever._ I can’t like him! That’s not something I can do. He’s Ben. He’s just always been Ben.” 

“Maybe it’s just because you haven’t given him a chance before,” Kamala says. “Now, enough of this boy talk. Your mother made sambar vada for dinner tonight. Your favorite.” Kamala slings her arm around Devi’s shoulder, and she lets her cousin guide her out of the room.

* * *

Devi can’t quite fucking believe what’s happening to her right now. She’s in _Paxton Hall-Yoshida’s_ bedroom. She’s about to have _sex_ with him. 

(never mind the fact that she wasn’t entirely sure she was ready, that she wanted her first kiss and her first time to be together, that she was terrified, and that there was the voice of her mother in the back of her head yelling at her about the risks of pregnancy)

“Sorry about the mess,” he says, closing the door behind him. “I can never get awake in the mornings and I just end up making everything messier.” 

“Me too,” she laughs, and almost cringes from how awkward she sounds. “I mean, it’s crazy school starts before 10 am, right?” 

Paxton gives her a confused look. “Yeah I mean, I’d like for it to start later, but why 10?” 

“You know, cause our brains aren’t fully….” she trails off when the confused look on Paxton’s face only becomes more prominent, and laughs awkwardly. “Never mind.” 

Paxton shrugs. “Ok,” he says, before taking his shirt off. 

_Whoa._ Well, she had ogled his bare chest enough times to know that it looked like that, but still, it was a whole different thing when it was in front of her, and she could touch it, and it was so close. 

Devi almost reaches out a hand, but she remembers that she’s probably not looking the best. “Um, sorry,” she says. “Do you have a bathroom I can use for a moment?” 

“Yeah, sure,” Paxton says. “Turn right. it’s the second door down the hall.” 

Devi nods. “Thanks.” 

In the bathroom, she splashes water on her face and sprays just enough perfume to smell halfway decent, but then bangs her pinky toe on the toilet. 

“Ow!” she whisper-yells, biting her lip in pain. 

“Are you ok?” A voice calls out. 

What? Devi furrows her eyebrows and opens the bathroom door to see a shorter blonde girl standing in front of her. “Oh, yeah,” she says. “I’m sorry.” 

“No, it’s fine,” the girl says. “But can I ask you to help me with one thing?” 

Devi glances down the hall, back at Paxton’s bedroom, but it would look awkward if she said no to this girl and then just walked right back to his room. “Sure,” she shrugs. 

Devi helps the girl, whose name she learns is Rebecca, pick out a good pair of distressed jeans to wear at the movies, before Paxton stumbles upon them. 

“Devi?” he asks, his face quickly morphing from confused to pissed off. 

“Pax—Paxton,” she stammers. “I’m sorry, Rebecca just asked me for her help.” 

“I thought you wanted to come here for me, not my sister,” he spits out. “I should have never let you in.” 

Devi feels shame creeping up on her, and god, she’s so embarrassed, can barely look him in the eyes. 

“Hey!” Rebecca interjects. “You douchebag! I asked her for her help. I’m allowed to talk to people, you know!” She puts her hands on her hip and glares at Paxton. “I get that you’re protective of me, but just cause you’re my big brother doesn’t give you a pass to treat everyone I talk to like shit. I like Devi.” 

Paxton quickly turns from pissed off to abashed. “Sorry, Becks,” he says. “I—I didn’t know.” 

Rebecca frowns. “You shouldn’t be apologizing to me.” 

Paxton shifts his gaze to Devi, and she can barely meet his eyes, but she does. “Sorry, Devi. We can—we can go back to my room, if you want?” 

Devi almost says yes, but then she hesitates. Her mother has been in the back of her head all day, and she’s not sure this is what she wants anymore. 

(and plus, she’s so fucking confused, another boy taking up so much of her mind, more than he used to take up, and she’d feel even shittier if she slept with paxton without knowing how she feels)

“I’m sorry, Paxton. I just—I don’t think I’m ready yet. I’m really sorry,” she apologizes, and god, she’s such a fool for turning down Paxton _fucking_ Hall-Yoshida, but she’d feel even worse if she slept with him. 

He shrugs. “Hey, no worries.” 

Rebecca glances back and forth between the two of them. “Well, I still have a few hours before I have to head to the movies. Do you guys want to play a video game?” 

Devi opens her mouth to protest, but when she catches sight of Rebecca’s eyes on her, she can’t find it in herself to say no. 

“Ok,” she says, smiling, “but only a few games. Then I have to head back home.” 

It ends up not mattering much, because Rebecca is a far better player than Devi could ever hope to be, and she’s even better than Paxton, who, to his credit, holds his own for a little while before Rebecca utterly crushes him. 

“Got you again!” Rebecca crows triumphantly and Paxton groans, leaning back against the couch, his arm thrown across his eyes dramatically. 

“Why do I even try?” he complains, and Devi laughs at him. 

“I don’t know, Paxton,” Rebecca says. “I’m going to get more popcorn. I’ll be right back, guys.” 

She leaves, and Devi turns back to Paxton. She likes this Paxton, the one who plays with his little sister and is bad at video games, not the aloof, popular Paxton at school. 

(but, she notices, she still does not feel any butterflies, not like she does when she is with ben. she’s laughed a lot with paxton and rebecca, but her heart has not skipped a beat, her brain hasn’t been consumed with him, like it is when she is with ben, and the truth of this scares devi so much she’s not sure she wants to figure it out)

“So,” Paxton says, “how did you do on that stupid Facebook project Shapiro gave us?” 

“I got a 100,” Devi states. Everyone always thinks she’s bragging when she says that, but she’s _not._ The only person she brags about her grades to is Ben. Otherwise, it’s just a simple fact of life. She’s smart, and she does well on her assignments. She’s not trying to be braggy about that, but she shouldn't have to hide it either. 

Paxton’s eyebrows raise. “Oh wow. Who did you do it with? I did it with Trent. We got a 45.” His eyes are looking right into hers. _Not as pretty as Ben’s,_ she thinks offhandedly, but then mentally smacks herself. 

“Ben,” she says. “So it wasn’t surprising we did well. Maybe surprising we didn’t kill each other.” 

“Ben?” Paxton asks. “Is he that kid you’re always arguing with in class? The Jewish one?” 

“Yup,” Devi says, nodding. “He’s _so_ annoying sometimes, and he’s never right, but he can actually be pretty smart. Occasionally.” 

Paxton laughs. “You sound just like my mom talking about my dad. What do people call that?” He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Like an old married couple. You really sound like that in class. You know—when I pay attention,” he adds, but Devi can barely focus. 

Paxton thought that she and Ben bickered like an old married couple? For the first time, Devi lets herself think about what it would be like to kiss Ben. She wants to think he’d be bad at it, but honestly, his lips always looked so soft in class, it would be a crime to give him soft lips and then make him bad at kissing. And he had a smile that made her feel like she was a little underwater, that drowned out everything else around her. 

Devi forces herself to push the thoughts of Ben out of her mind when Rebecca returns with the popcorn, but she knows they’ll be back soon. 

She couldn’t seem to stop thinking about him lately. 

* * *

“So,” Devi says, sipping her hot chocolate with latte written on the cup, “how have you guys been doing? Fabiola, how was your date with Eve?” 

Fabiola groans, face planting on the picnic bench. “She was just, so _pretty_ the whole time. I felt bad for not wearing something nicer. I wore my medium polo instead of my large.” 

“Wear a suit,” Eleanor says, daintily sipping at her own iced americano. “It’s like, a proven fact that women in suits are hotter than men in suits.” 

“True,” Devi says, tipping her drink towards Fabiola. “Have you ever seen Zendaya in a suit?” 

“Please. Zendaya is hot in everything,” Fabiola says, her voice muffled by the picnic bench. “That’s not a fair comparison.” 

“Ok, that’s also true,” Devi says. 

“Hey, Devi!” She turns her head to see Ben heading for her, and she smiles at him. 

“Gross. What’s up?” 

“Here,” he says, handing her a cookie. “I snagged you the last chocolate chip cookie in the lunch line.” 

“Are you still eating disgusting oatmeal raisin?” she asks, picking the cellophane wrap off of the cookie. 

“Hey, it’s scientifically proven that oatmeal is high in antioxidants, so when you think about it, I’m eating brain food to help me beat you.” 

“It’s scientifically proven that oatmeal is gross, along with onions.” 

“In what scientific journal does it say that?” he asks, a smug look on his face. 

“One that you’re clearly not advanced enough to read. It’s made for smart people like me.” 

“Oh, does that mean it has pictures instead of words?” 

She flips him off. “You wish, Gross.” 

“Whatever,” he says, laughing. “I’ll see you in history.” 

“Thanks for the cookie, Ben,” she shouts at his retreating back. “I hope you didn’t poison it, cause that shit doesn’t affect me!” 

“You wish, David!” he shouts back, before disappearing around the corner. 

Devi takes a bite of her cookie while turning back to her friends. Fabiola is just staring at her with a confused look on her face, while Eleanor is smirking. 

“What?” she asks. 

“Since when did you and Ben Gross become friends?” Fabiola asks. 

“Forget about _that,_ Fabiola!” Eleanor says gleefully. “Since when did you and Ben start _flirting?”_

“Flirting? _Flirting?”_ Devi nearly spits out a mouthful of cookie as she rushes to answer. “That wasn’t flirting. That was a normal conversation. Between two nemeses. I made fun of him.” 

“You made fun of his cookie choices, Devi. His _cookie choices._ He brought you a cookie. God, you two are practically an old married couple. You bicker enough for that to be true,” Eleanor points out. 

Devi feels her face flush. “There is nothing going on between Ben and I. We barely like each other.” 

“Oh, so now you _do_ like each other? Help me, Fab, I’m getting confused.” 

“Me too,” Fabiola says. “I thought everyone knew you two liked each other?” 

“What?” Devi nearly screams. “When did everyone start thinking that?” 

“Oh, please,” Eleanor says. “Everyone knows you only bicker cause you have so much sexual tension. It’s like, destined.” 

“That’s not true! I like Paxton.” 

“Correction: you _liked_ Paxton. And you’ve liked Paxton for years. Interesting you started losing interest in him just when you started getting closer to Ben, hmm?” Eleanor arches an eyebrow, and Devi _hates_ how knowing she looks right now. 

“Correlation doesn’t necessarily equal causation, El,” Fabiola adds. 

“Thank you!” Devi seizes the out Fabiola’s given her. “I don’t like Ben.” 

Eleanor laughs. “Devi, you didn’t see your face when he came here. It lit up, like, you were _so_ happy. The kind of happy you haven’t been since your dad passed.” 

Devi falls silent at that. Thinking about her dad always made her equal parts sad and equal parts happy. 

But in the wake of what had happened to her Dad, Ben was the only person to treat her like she wasn’t going to fall to pieces, even when she was in a wheelchair. Fab and El had been great, but they had been overbearing, so much so that she needed to get away from them. Ben had been the only person who had treated her normally. He wasn’t cruel or mean, but he had challenged her and teased her and made her feel like she was a regular kid during those three months. 

(she would forever be grateful to him for that, more grateful than he would ever truly know. ben had become, in a weird way, her grounding point, her true north, she was like a compass point, and whenever she felt lost, she looked to him to help her find her way home again. he was the one thing in her life she could always count on, and she didn’t know how she felt about that. actually, she did know how she felt about that, and it scared the shit out of her) 

“Look,” Eleanor says softly. She reaches over and lays her hand over Devi’s. “I know you’re still really upset about your dad. Accepting his death and letting yourself start to heal doesn’t mean the grief goes away. But you deserve to be happy, Devi. Truly happy. Not just sleeping with hot boys happy—even though Paxton _is_ hot—but really happy, like the kind of happy that makes you want to write Taylor Swift love songs or burst out into song in the middle of nowhere.” 

Fabiola nods, furiously typing on her phone. 

“She is right,” Gears Brosnan says, and strangely, this comforts Devi. Knowing her friends had her back was the most important thing in the world. They were everything to her, and they meant so much. 

But she couldn't. He was _Ben Gross._ She didn’t like him, even if she did appreciate everything he had done, even if she thought he was funny at times.

“Thanks guys, but even if you were right, it still wouldn’t work out. Unless you forgot that Ben has a girlfriend?” she points out, pretending as if the very fact doesn’t make her heart sink into her shoes, doesn’t make her stomach twist itself into uncomfortable knots.

Eleanor just shakes her head, a knowing smile on her lips. “I can’t wait for the day you figure it out, Devi. I’ll be standing there with my phone, filming the whole thing.” 

“I’m not saying anything!” Devi protests. 

“You just pointed out that you didn’t like Shira,” Fabiola adds, rather unhelpfully. 

“I didn’t say that!” Devi rebutts. “I just think he deserves better than Shira! Someone who he can talk to. Someone who can talk to him. I mean, isn’t that what everyone wants in a relationship? Someone they have fun talking to?” 

“And do _you_ have fun talking to Ben?” Fabiola asks. 

Devi flushes. “That’s not the point. Can we talk about something else, please?” she begs.

“Fine,” Eleanor sighs dramatically. “I just think it’s all so romantic. Like, a Broadway show or something.” 

Devi smiles tightly, grateful that her friends move on to discussing the antics of the new chemistry teacher instead of her love life, but she thinks Eleanor is wrong. 

There’s nothing romantic going on between her and Ben. There just can’t be. No matter what he makes her feel like, it can’t happen. It just, it can’t. 

* * *

Devi picks at her garlic naan, her appetite completely gone. She hates wasting food, especially when her mom makes naan with paneer butter masala, one of her favorites, but she has no appetite right now. Seeing Ben and Shira all over each other a few days ago had left her with zero appetite over the past few days, and it’s only gotten worse. 

“Devi,” her mom asks, “everything alright?” 

Devi shakes herself out of her slump and nods. “Yup!” She tears off a piece of naan and pops it into her mouth, chewing furiously. “It’s all good!” 

Nalini gives her a weird look, but goes back to her own food. Devi makes a concentrated effort to eat some dinner, making her way through half of her plate before her mom speaks again. 

“So, how was history class?” 

Devi swallows past the lump in her throat that seems to appear whenever she thinks of Ben now. “It was good. Although Ben thought that _he_ was right when he said that nobody had ever fought a pointless war, so then of _course_ I had to tell him about the Emu War of Australia—don’t laugh,” she adds, catching the incredulous look on her mother and Kamala’s faces, “it’s a real thing, and he actually made me like, pull up the Wikipedia page for it. And then, when I showed it to him, he _still_ didn’t believe me, he said that because in the title of the Wikipedia article, the fact that war was in quotation marks didn’t make it a real war! Emus lost their lives! He would not listen—ugh!” 

“And your teacher was ok with this?” Nalini asks, a confused look on her face. 

Devi nods, finishing the last of her dinner quickly. “Yeah! He like, even came and looked at the Wikipedia page and everything. It felt good to prove Ben wrong.” 

Her mother nods slowly. “I see,” she says, and then falls silent once more. 

Dinner’s over rather quickly after that, and since it’s Devi’s turn to do the dishes, she stands at the sink and washes them before handing them to her mother, who dries and puts them away. 

“So,” Nalini starts, drying the glass that Devi has just handed her, “are you dating Ben?” 

Devi nearly drops a plate in shock, but manages to stop herself at the last second. “No, Mom! I’m not dating _anyone!_ Why on earth would you think that? We don’t even like each other!” That last sentence is a lie, certainly on her part, but she’s not going to let her _mother_ know that. 

Nalini raises an eyebrow and grabs the last plate from Devi, and Devi dries her hands as her mother tucks the plate back into the cabinet. “I don’t know,” she says, leaning on the island with her hip. “Just the way you talked about him in class. I used to bicker with your father like last.” She gets that faraway look in her eyes, the look she always gets when she talks about Devi’s dad. “Oh god, was he a firecracker. Like you, in fact. He really kept me on my toes. It’s something I miss.” She shrugs. “I don’t know, you guys really remind me of an old married couple, with all the arguing you do.” 

Devi’s about 89% sure she looks like a fish right now, her mouth opening and closing in shock. “It’s a shame,” Nalini adds, “that you actually aren’t dating. I like him. He’s a nice boy. You need someone to keep you on your toes, Devi. You’re a firecracker.” 

She pats her daughter on the shoulder and gives her a smile before walking out of the room, and Devi stands there, absolutely frozen. 

Images of Ben flash through her mind. Ben, asking her if she’s ok. Ben, giving her a cookie. Ben, laughing not at her, but _with_ her. Ben, knowing what she wants before she even knows. 

Oh _god._ How could she have been so confused? So oblivious? So unwilling to accept what was in front of her? For fuck’s sake, she thought of him as her true north, grounding her. 

She clutches the island, her heart pounding. It’s almost too much to take in, and the epiphany nearly bowls her over. _I like Ben. I like Ben._

She can barely process the thought. She likes Ben. Wants to kiss him. Wants to hold his hand. Wants to make him laugh, wants to high-five him and team up, wants to smile at him and wants to bicker with him. Wants to prove him right and wrong and wants to talk with him. She wants to be with him. She’s never wanted to be with someone so badly. It’s like her soul is aching, telling her that she needs to listen, begging her to listen, after ignoring it for so long. 

Devi moves like a frozen zombie, but before she can even process anything, she’s tearing out of her house, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk and looking around like a foolish idiot. 

She has to get to Ben. Even if she doesn’t tell him. Maybe the sight of his face will calm her, will ground her, like it always does. 

Devi starts off towards his house, grateful that the sun’s still out, but also praying that her mother doesn’t find out. Although she’s not exactly sure how mad she’d be, considering what her mother just told her. 

As she walks, all she can think of is Ben. God, she’s missed it all. The sickening feeling whenever she caught sight of him and Shira. Realizing that Paxton’s eyes were pretty, but not as pretty as Ben’s. Ben made her feel a way no one else had before, not even Paxton. Like the sun was on her face. This wasn’t a fire burning her up from the inside, but a warmth that came from within. The fact that bickering with him was something she looked forward to every single day. That he was the first person to make her feel _alive_ after her dad died. 

Being with Ben made Devi feel like she was on top of the world, that the two of them could take on anything. He had always pushed her to be better, but now, she didn’t want to be any better than him. She just wanted him. 

(she wants them both in first place, with him by her side)

When she finally reaches his house, she’s shaking. She’s absolutely fucking terrified, terrified at the thought of losing the only person in her life who challenges her, who makes her feel like she can be better, who makes her feel like who she already _is_ is enough. 

She wrings her hand as she walks up to his door, knocks on it. 

It feels like an eternity before he opens it, but it’s probably only about a minute. 

“David?” he asks, brow furrowed in confusion. “What are you doing here?” His eyes widen in realization. “Oh damn, did you really like the meme I sent you so much you had to come over here and talk about it?” 

“Shut up,” she says, fiddling with her hands. “Please. I’m sorry I just—I need to say this,” she begs, holding her hands out in front of her. 

“Hey, hey, Devi,” he says, “calm down. Come on, take a seat.” He steps out of his house, shutting the door behind them, and sits down on the steps to his house. 

“What’s wrong,” he asks, his brows furrowed in confusion. 

“Look,” she breathes. “I know this like, isn’t the right time at all, for any of this, but I just need to get this off of my chest, because I only really just realized it, even though _everyone_ has been telling me for so long, and I was just so oblivious because I really thought it could never happen, you know, I never thought that it could be a reality. For so long, I thought I knew what I wanted, and then my dad died, and it was like I spiralled, and I didn’t know what I wanted, but I was sure of one thing, and that was that I wanted Paxton.” She watches his face fall, and it shouldn’t give her a little hope, but it does. 

She grabs his hand. “But then I realized I was wrong, that I didn’t want Paxton, you know? I wanted someone who could argue with me and make me laugh in the same sentence, who could make me happy even when we disagreed, who made me feel like I was good and that I was worthy, and I know it’s so wrong to be telling you this because you and Shira are dating, and I’m not trying to be a homewrecker or anything—” 

“Shira and I broke up,” Ben says, interrupting her. He sounds as if he’s barely processing anything she’s said, but Devi latches onto this little piece of information with everything she has. 

“You what?” 

He swallows and clutches her hand a little tighter. “I—I broke up with her. A few days ago. I couldn’t do it anymore. She only wanted me for my money, and maybe I deserve that, you know, someone like that, because—” 

(and this thought breaks her heart, that ben doesn’t think he deserves the world, deserves someone who worships him, who loves him with everything they have, because god, he’s one of the best people that devi knows, one of the best people she’s ever met)

“No, Ben,” Devi interrupts him this time. “God, no, you deserve everything.” She looks down at their joined hands, trying to stop the shaking in her voice. “You know, I didn’t realize who my dad was to me before he was gone. He was always trying to make me be better. Like, he thought I was special and amazing and—” she chokes back a few tears. “I’m not trying to make this about me, really I’m not, I just—I need to tell you.” 

She takes a deep breath, steels her nerves. “I like you, Ben.” She lets out a wry laugh. “I like you so much I don’t know what to do with myself. I don’t how _how_ to stop liking you. I like you more than I’ve ever liked anyone, and I just—I know that you probably don’t feel the same way after how I’ve treated you all these years, but you deserved to know. I feel alive when I’m with you.” 

He’s silent, doesn’t say anything. Fuck, Devi‘s going to die, for sure, if he doesn’t say something soon. She knew this was a terrible idea, telling him, because she was going to pass out. She was going to die, slink home and cry for hours, try and put the pieces of her life back together, a life without Ben in it, something she found unimaginable. She couldn’t, couldn’t figure out how to live a life without him. He had always been there. 

“Ben, please,” she begs. “Say something.” He’s just staring at her, mouth slightly open, and he looks shocked. Devi feels herself falling apart by the minute, desperate for _something_ from him. 

Then his hand pulls out from underneath her own, and she feels her own heart crack in two, shatter in her chest, but before she can start crying, it’s sliding around her neck and pulling her closer, and then suddenly Ben’s kissing her. 

And Devi finds that she was right, that his lips are so soft, that he’s a good kisser, and that she feels alive, like she could climb on a cloud and go flying. She places her own hand over his neck and tugs him closer, kissing him harder, and Ben responds in kind, the hand not buried in her hair moving to her hip, and it’s everything she’s ever wanted. 

His hand buries itself in her hair, and fuck, she feels like she’s about to pass out, but in a good way, her brain dizzy from his kisses. They are soft and sweet, but when his mouth presses against hers, harder, she gets hungrier, wants him more and more. 

They kiss over and over again, barely separating to breathe, and Devi knows her lips are going to get chapped by the end of this, but that’s a small price to pay. She’s hungry in a whole new way now, hungry for the feeling of Ben’s hand in hers, for his lips on hers, and she doesn’t think she’ll ever get enough of his kisses, doesn’t think she could ever get tired of the feeling of his mouth pressed against hers. 

Ben’s the first to pull away, and Devi almost tugs him back to kiss her again, and god, she’s already become addicted to him, to everything about him. 

He doesn’t go far, though, and presses his forehead against hers, His breath ghosts over her own lips, and she wants them back on hers so badly, but manages to hold back. 

“Not like you?” he says, his thumb rubbing against her cheek. “Devi, you make me feel alive too. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.” 

Devi smiles, but she can’t resist. “All you’ve ever wanted? More than to get into Yale?” 

He huffs a laugh, but drags her closer for another kiss, making her head spin. God, everything in her mind goes blank when she’s with Ben. When he pulls back, he pulls back enough to look into her eyes. “More than to get into Yale,” he affirms. “Not by much, but yeah, more.” 

Devi curls her hands around his face, mirroring how he’s cupped his face into her palms. “You know everyone else saw this before us? They call us an old married couple.” 

Ben laughs, sending warmth throughout her body, and god, will he ever not affect her like this?  
  
(she hopes not. she loves how she responds to him, how he makes her feel. It’s something she never wants to stop)

“We do bicker like one,” he points out, fondly smoothing his thumb out over her cheekbone. “Plus, I don’t care. They can call us an old married couple all they want. They don’t get to kiss you, do they?” 

“Damn straight,” Devi murmurs. “But we all know you’re the only one who wants to kiss me. Cause you’re like, crazy into me.” 

Ben laughs. “Excuse me, I’m not the one who ran to your house at night in order to tell you how I felt.” 

“Oh, shut up,” she says. “It got us here, didn’t it?” 

“That’s true. It doesn’t matter who did what, how we got here. Just that we did,” Ben says, just before he kisses her again. 

And he’s right, because when he’s kissing her, Devi finds it hard to care about _how_ they got here. The only thing she cares about is Ben, and that she wants to stay here, with him forever. 

**Author's Note:**

> your comments and kudos make me happier than ben watching rick and morty! please leave your comments, and message me if you wanna talk more about the show! i can also be found on tumblr: @ [parkersedith](https://parkersedith.tumblr.com/)


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